I cannot remember if I was still up at 11 p.m. last evening or not, but I went to bed with my cellphone alarm set for 3 a.m.
At something like 2:15 a.m. I found myself awake and in need of a visit to the bathroom. Since it was earlier than I wanted to be getting up for my planned five-mile+ walk that I was going to have in lieu of doing any later morning grocery-shopping hikes, I returned to bed in search of a little further sleep.
When my alarm did finally chime, I felt less rested than I had expected would be so. As a result, I did not force my readiness.
My youngest stepson was still up, and my wife hadn't shown up following working at the Thai restaurant where she is employed part-time.
Once I was ready to leave, my fully clothed weigh-in ─ without a jacket ─ was a rather pleasing 183 pounds. Since my departure on the previous early a.m. walk I had dropped three pounds.
It was 3:35 a.m. once I was outside the re-locked front door. The night sky was seemingly quite clear, and it was not as chilly as it had been on my previous walk.
Perhaps that aspect of feeling not quite adequately slept played in this, but I opted to pass by the elementary school about three blocks from here and not visit its playground for exercise until my return.
There was not to be anything remarkable about the walk ─ almost always a good thing. Even so, about ¾ of a mile from my return to home, I did notice a chap ─ likely homeless ─ seated on the top step of the stairs leading from the termination of what must be 137th Street and thus connecting pedestrians to Fraser Highway (Google Map). The termination of that street is at an elevation of over six feet or more than Fraser Highway, so it cannot be presently connected to it ─ the entire street from 97-A Avenue would need to be demolished and major excavation done in order to reduce the dramatic grade and make connection of 137th Street with Fraser Highway possible.
Anyway, I noticed the guy as I was walking Fraser Highway towards King George Boulevard. He seemed likely to have some baggage with him, and might have been semi-dozing, for his head was down.
My footwear betrayed me and I was not able to pass by unnoticed.
He sounded to be at least into his later middle years and had a rather coarse voice, for he said something like, "Good morning. How're ya doing?"
Without slowing my step, I continued past and simply replied back, "Good morning! Not so bad, I guess."
I had gone some ways further with quickened step when he spake a little more in gravelly fashion that was not by then audible, for he was not putting any energy into projecting his voice; but my impression was that he might have possibly been suggesting something ─ maybe he had some pot or dope; or maybe he was simply soliciting engagement. Whatever the case, I do not undertake these early a.m. walks because I want to meet people ─ well, certainly not homeless males. So I ignored him and was gone from his ken in short order.
I did stop at the elementary school playground. I was not intending my full usual exercise routine there, for I had stopped in during the return on my early Saturday walk just over 24 hours earlier.
But to my huge surprise, all of the equipment was absolutely dry ─ not the vaguest hint of any developing condensation.
Thus I doffed my jacket, and my initial stiffness was in full manifest ─ I only managed four pull-ups in the first set of two sets of pull-ups.
Overall: 4-2-3-3-2-2.
The middle two sets were chin-ups by which time I was more limber. The final two sets were the always strenuous pull-ups on a pair of gymnastics-style rings, but I actually held the final of those for a 50-count, although that count was somewhat quicker than each count in the 30-count that separates my sets of pull-ups and chin-ups.
But even so, I have never held a pull-up at the end of an exercise session for so very long. Earlier in the year my goal and norm was a 15-count.
Notwithstanding, when I next went over to the cement ramp for the decline full-range push-ups, it took all I had in order to continue through to 14 of them, and I cursed aloud while straining with that final 14th.
As often the case afterwards, I almost marvelled at having survived the gruelling session at my age of 74.
It was 5:36 a.m. once I was back outside the locked front door ─ it had taken me a mere minute over two hours. Not having to wipe a jungle gym monkey bar dry does make a bit of difference, for my walk was six minutes over two hours yesterday.
My youngest stepson was still up. I have no idea what's going on with that guy. His mother says that he's been taking some vacation time off work ... but just to sit up throughout most of each night?
Well, the 25-year-old is the one who has to live his life, just as I had to live mine.
I didn't get back to bed until almost 7 a.m.
My morning was to begin after 9 a.m. ─ I do not recall exactly when. It seems to me that is was approaching 9:30 a.m. As yet my younger brother had not emerged from his bedroom.
I went downstairs and put on the kettle to boil for instant coffee, and came back upstairs to my bedside computer meantime. It was then that my brother came forth.
I had not bothered taking control of the T.V. because I wanted to give him his time to go through the Sunday morning edition of The Province that I subscribe to.
Soon enough the T.V. was on, so I then went downstairs to join him, and at 10 a.m. ─ or was it 10:30 a.m.? ─ was invited to put our Android TV Box to work.
I led us off with quite an enjoyable 40-minute video published September 18 at Rumble's AnitaKrishna channel: Un "Safe Supply" in BC- How Bonnie Henry is killing our province.
Podcast with Chris Vee Vancouver freedom fighter and creator of the Real Truth Report.
Subjects discussed, safe supply, BC, Bonnie Henry, fentanyl, overdose. safe injection site.
https://linktr.ee/Anita808
Full video: This Guy's Garage
https://youtu.be/92XcfbTdCE0?si=wQuQOWXbDqLfyVxz
I think that next I tuned in a video I had previously downloaded onto a flash or thumb drive, but my brother wanted some bed rest when there were maybe 20 minutes of the video remaining, so I suspended it for probably tomorrow morning. I'll report on it once we have watched all of it.
The morning had been solidly overcast, oddly enough considering my earlier walk. When it was still so during the noon hour, I had my day's first meal and was in no great rush for a nap because even though I had fully intended to get in some form of afternoon sunning, it was not appearing to be possible now.
My brother eventually came forth anew from his bedroom to tune in an NFL game.
As for my nap, it may have gotten delayed until near or even after 2 p.m. Whatever the case, I enjoyed a rather pleasant dream towards its termination that involved me developing a bit of a close relationship with a very naturally attractive young brunette who had a well-behaved baby (girl, I think) with her. We seemed to be at some sort of retreat.
I am unsure if the baby was hers ─ there is some ambiguity there. She might only have been taking care of it.
At any rate, they seemed to be set to be leaving for (possibly) Vancouver via a bus, so I was feeling some strong sense of loss at her departure, even though there was no likelihood of anything intimate developing between us. I just did not want to have her gone from my life.
But I came out of the dream before any sort of conclusion arrived.
At this point it was already past 3 p.m. And when I went downstairs for my day's third and final mug of coffee, I saw that it was by then wet outside ─ it had been or still was very lightly raining. My brother was gone ─ he had left afoot, so he had left to commence his daily socializing / drinking somewhere.
My wife had texted me at 2:04 p.m.:
Hi, how are you next Saturday I will give you another $1,100 ok
Thank you so much 🙏🙏🙏
So I responded after finishing my nap, and we exchanged a few texts. That was how I learned that her youngest son has taken some vacation time off work (he normally works from home).
I will have my monthly pension late this coming workweek ─ or so I expect. I plan to then let my wife know that she can keep her repayment (there was never a first such repayment, so this would not really be "another" one); but I will caution her to expend it wisely, for I am never again going to be surrendering hundreds of dollars of my pension to her each month, no matter what 'emergencies' may arise.
It there is a genuine emergency, then her two sons would willingly help her ─ they both earn more money than I take in via my pension income. But she knows she cannot easily con them, so she abuses my soft-heartedness ─ it's a form of spousal abuse, in truth.
It has got to stop ─ I need my money. This ongoing hostage situation that finds me destitute month after month needs to be over with.
On another front, I have been getting a couple of texts the past two days from Sandy, my old late friend William's ladyfriend. She lives alone in an apartment in Vancouver and has nothing but time on her hands; and because she can never reach me when she phones, nor get me to call her back at her whims, she is now playing the 'woe is me' card and seeking to guilt me into phoning her.
Part of her text of yesterday:
Wondering why you never call or got back to me
I guess you want to move on...ok that's fine.
Then today:
Hey
Why are you not talking to me? What did I do? I don't know what I did to have you stop talking to me.
She is 60 years old, and should have more maturity than this.
This same woman told me a couple or so years ago that a chap she knew got so fed up with her constant phone calls that he resorted to slapping a restraining order on her.
Enough of that. I may attempt to squeeze in a call now that my early evening is here. Nevertheless, I intend an evening walk ─ likely the 5.625-mile round trip hike to Real Canadian Superstore for just a litre of liquid whipping cream (I only have $25.95 in cash to spend until my pension arrives later this month).
Thereafter I will sit up tonight watching T.V. with my brother once both of us are back home, and I'll be having two or three Cariboo Malts (8% alcohol) while doing so.
Oh heck ─ it has already become dark, and has been for quite some while. Sandy must wait another day.
I have had a small meal, and now I shall begin readying for my hike. If the rain was maintained, it was so very light that I never saw it falling, nor heard it on the carport roof outside my open bedroom window. I anticipate absolutely no weather issues.
It is 8:17 p.m.
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